


the kids from yesterday

by stickmarionette



Series: your immortal smile [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Baby Dream Team, Character Study, Family Dynamics, Gen, Medical Conditions, Siblings, Team Dynamics, Yuletide 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-26
Updated: 2010-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-14 03:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickmarionette/pseuds/stickmarionette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Leo's world is simple.  He has his friends, school, Father, Mother, Rodrigo and Matias.  Then Marisol came, and that was good too.</i></p><p><i>And, above everything else, there's the game.</i></p><p>Even geniuses have growing pains.  They're just better at hiding it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the kids from yesterday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph/gifts).



> Title from the My Chemical Romance song. Dear recipient, I hope you like.
> 
> For more extensive notes, see end of fic.

Leo's world is simple. He has his friends, school, Father, Mother, Rodrigo and Matias. Then Marisol came, and that was good too.

And, above everything else, there's the game. He's had that ever since Grandmother gave him a ball and convinced Mother to let him play.

Grandmother died soon after Marisol was born, but he still has the ball.

Sometimes, he sleeps with it.

* * *

People say Leo doesn't notice much outside of a ball. It's true, but he notices enough to see that they've been living with less and less ever since the hormone treatments started. Worse food, no new clothes, the heater only ever used when it's freezing cold.

(And still, Father takes him to training as often as possible, even though the grounds are forty kilometers away.)

At least he remembers what it was like before, though. Marisol doesn't know any life other than the one in which almost all of the money goes towards treating her brother, and all of the attention towards making sure he has a future.

A part of him knows that the entire family is depending on him - or rather, on the professional contract they know he's good enough to get. The money wouldn't solve all their problems, but it would go a long way.

So when father brings up Barcelona, Leo doesn't even have to think about it.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

Even in small glimpses from the window of their taxi and then the hotel room, Barcelona feels like a different world to the steel and dirt of Rosario. Father's gone to arrange Leo's trial, somewhere below the giant, looming shape of the Camp Nou that he can just about see from his window, and Mother's gone out to see about food. Rodrigo and Matias have been left to watch Leo and Marisol, but they're both sprawled on the couch, half asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Leo doesn't feel tired. He's thirteen, far from home for the first time, and facing the biggest test of his life. He's scared stiff.

"Leo?" Marisol whispers. "I don't like it here. Everything's strange."

There's a tearful note in her voice, and he hates himself instantly for not noticing her sniffles earlier. If everybody else is tired and hungry and bored, it can't be any easier for her. She's never been outside Rosario before, and she's so small still, fragile-feeling in his arms.

"It's okay. I'll - this will all be worth it," Leo says, and makes himself believe, too.

* * *

The trial turns out fine.

He'd been afraid they'd want to ask him questions, but all they wanted was to see him play a game against a side made up of slightly older, bigger boys.

Before he goes on, Father pats him on the shoulder. "Nervous?"

Leo smiles. "Why?"

It's just a game. A game he's been playing since Grandmother gave him a ball, and he doesn't lose very much.

* * *

After he scores for the fifth time, the coach signals for a substitution.

"It's okay," Father says, reading his worried look. "They bought you off because Mr Rexach said he'd seen enough already. You did fine."

Leo nods. "I can stay?"

Father's proud beam dims. "Probably. We'll try our best, anyway."

* * *

It's been three months. And - nothing. Three months of living in complete uncertainty and going to a school where almost everybody spoke Catalan and nobody understood his accented mumble.

Leo's okay with being by himself. He doesn't need to talk much. As soon as the other kids saw him with a ball, he suddenly got invited to play with them during break times, and that's good enough.

Marisol hates it. And even with the frustration of waiting, not knowing whether they'd have the money to pay for the next lot of treatments or even rent, not knowing whether they'd have to go back to Argentina, and not being able to play on a real team - none of that is as bad as seeing how miserable she is.

His parents begin to fight. It makes everyone jumpy and upset, and when it's finally over they've decided that Mother should take Marisol back to Argentina to live.

"It's for the best," Mother says, stroking his hair with trembling hands. "Be good."

Leo nods. He hates this, hates that he won't get to see her and Marisol much any more. But this is where he needs to be, now. His eyes are dry, his hands steady when he goes to hug Marisol goodbye.

"Behave, okay? Don't worry about me. I'll do what I need to."

The rest doesn't matter.

* * *

In the fourth month, Father asks Leo if he wants to go back to Argentina.

Leo looks at him like he's mad. He doesn't answer.

Going back means giving up. It means no more money for treatments. No hope of ever getting tall enough to play professionally. And if he can't play, what can he do?

Nothing that'll ever mean anything - not to the part of him that lives for the game.

Father's face crumbles. "I'm sorry. But I had to ask."

"I know," Leo says. "It's okay."

It's okay, because Father will never ask again. They both know that now.

* * *

In the fifth month, the contract is finally signed. Father stops looking worried all the time and suddenly there's more money to spend. They can now call home every day.

Leo tells his mother the good news.

"You won't be coming home, then," she says heavily.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

He means it, too. There's not a moment when he doesn't miss her and Marisol. But -

"No, don't apologize. This is what you always wanted. Just - don't make us worry. You'll be brilliant, I know it."

For her - for all of them - he could be more than brilliant. All they have to do is let him play.

* * *

In the sixth month, Leo starts training at La Masia with the class of 87.

He still doesn't talk much. The other guys probably think he can't. Not that it matters - football has always been its own language to him, and here he has team mates who agree.

More importantly, they all hate losing as much as he does. The practice game are insane, so intense the coach has to step in at least once a day.

He loves it.

* * *

In the eighth month, they go to Turin for a youth tournament, and Leo rooms with Cesc Fabregas for the first time.

They bond over PlayStation. That's the story, anyway. Boys playing ProEvo and fighting over claims of invincibility - normal enough.

But the truth is Leo knew Cesc before they had a single conversation. Cesc sees the pitch like he's standing over it. He passes the ball like he's picking it up and placing it at Leo's feet, or pointing out the quickest route to goal where none existed a few seconds ago. He's hard-working, smart, un-selfish.

He'd kicked Leo from behind when Leo went past him a few times too many. So - bad tempered. Probably a bad loser.

These are the things Leo sees. What Cesc sees when he looks at Leo - he's never worried about that, not beyond that first moment when he went past four defenders, rounded the goalkeeper and smashed the ball into the net, and Cesc ran at him with this light in his eyes like he was seeing Leo clearly for the first time.

And, really, in Leo's head, he was. Once that happened, Leo was sure Cesc knew him, too.

* * *

It's the same with Gerard. Leo had found him unsettling at first - this big Catalan kid who almost never shut up, and who seemed to fill the room with his energy even when he did. It's hard to just exist around someone who seems to demand noise and colour. Makes him feel like he should do more, be more, just to keep up.

In the ninth month, Gerard punches an opponent in the face for breaking Leo's leg.

He's very smart, underneath the antics. Leo doesn't pay much attention - he has a really short attention span for conversations, when they don't involve football - but he can tell that much already. It's in the way he leads the team on the pitch, always ready with the words for whoever needs them, and the easy way he talks to the coaches.

Punching that guy is probably the dumbest thing Gerard's done this year. But when he stops to see Leo on his way into the changing rooms, pale with worry and already looking irritated with himself, Leo can only smile up at him through his painkiller-induced haze.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

Twenty months after leaving Rosario, Leo walks onto the La Masia training pitch on a Monday afternoon, ready to start the practice game. He doesn't have to look to know that Cesc and Gerard are right behind, Gerard probably tugging Cesc's shirt until it fell right and Cesc batting at his hands like a small and irritable child.

They all know each other inside out, in all the ways that matter. On the pitch, it's all perfectly simple once broken down. Gerard keeps the defence organised, Cesc controls the tempo from midfield, and Leo makes the chances - and makes them count.

They're a machine, every part working in tandem.

They win and win and it's wonderful, the best thing Leo's ever known.

He looks up at the looming shadow of the Camp Nou, every day, just for a moment, and lets himself imagine. They all do. It's like a promise - one day, soon.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this is based on fact, including Leo Messi's now famous growth hormone problem, which Barca offered to pay to treat, but not before making him jump through a hell of a lot of hoops. Celia and Marisol Messi moving back to Argentina halfway through his trial period is true too, as is Leo scoring 5 goals in about 5 minutes during his trial. (The numbers surrounding Leo's trial period vary depending on who's doing the storytelling - I think even Rexach himself has changed his tune several times - but the basic gist remains.)
> 
> And, of course, the story of Leo's grandmother, who we all have to thank for her conviction that her undersized grandson could cut it on a football pitch. (She's the one being acknowledged in Leo's signature goal celebration, having passed away too early to see her grandson fulfill his potential.)
> 
> La Masia's famously competitive and successful class of 1987 included Leo Messi, Gerard Pique, Cesc Fabregas, as well as Toni Calvo (now at Aris), Franck Songo'o (now at Albacete), Marc Valiente (now at Valladolid) and Victor Vazquez (recently scored his first goal for Barca).
> 
> The Messi family: Jorge Messi, Celia Messi (formerly Celia Biancucchi - the Biancucchi side of the family produces a lot of footballers), Leo's older brothers Rodrigo and Matias, and younger sister Marisol.
> 
> I have taken some liberties with numbers here and there, but by and large this story should survive a cursory fact check.
> 
> Some resources: [1](http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1169995/1/index.htm), [2](http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/football/european_football/article7078610.ece), [3](http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/worldcup2010/article-1285394/WORLD-CUP-2010-Lionel-Messi--How-small-shy-boy-lazy-suburb-turned-global-superstar.html), [4](http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/news/story?id=4205057), [5](http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2010/jun/04/world-cup-2010-best-players?INTCMP=SRCH), [6](http://www.independent.ie/sport/soccer/rosario-the-old-coach-and-the-kid-1558846.html). Out of those, I particularly recommend the first and the last for both comprehensiveness and depth.
> 
> Finally, dear Steph: thank you for giving me the opportunity to write about a period of Leo's life I haven't touched on before.


End file.
